


Colors Shape The World

by indfirol



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Lance (Voltron), Coran is a snake, Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indfirol/pseuds/indfirol
Summary: In a world where people are black and white colorblind until they look into the eyes of their soulmate, Keith is a stickler. He believes that none of that really exists, and soulmates are crap. It's not real! But then he meets Lance at Coran's birthday party, he's tall, tan, and handsome. He's also blind. Lance is obnoxious and loud, and Keith assumes that it's to make up for his lack of eyesight. Keith wants to be with Lance, but he's afraid of how much he'd have to give up to date a blind boy. And when he feels himself falling, he can't bring himself to look in Lance's eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So if you didn't see it in the tags, this is Blind!Lance and a soulmate AU! Nonbinary Pidge, and adopted Korean Keith!

Whoever said the world was round, they were smart.

Whoever invented the cereal, they were smart.

Whoever started spreading the rumor that when you meet your soulmate you will see color, they were a dumbass.

It's just not scientifically possible. Somewhere along the way, evolution took a wrong turn and left us all colorblind. Black and white, and every shade of grey you can think of. And trust me, there are a hell of a lot more than just fifty.

Everyone's convinced that this is a real thing. You see couples walking the streets, hand in hand, talking about something being "red" or "blue". My brain can't even comprehend what red would even look like. It's just out of my limits.

None of us knew 'color' even existed until someone claimed they saw it. I think they were seriously stoned and just made it up. Even as I sit here, staring at a dried up leaf in my hand, I can't imagine it being any other shade. I curl in my fingers and crush it to pieces. It was dead anyways.

The bus finally pulls up to the curb and I hop on, immediately slipping in my headphones. I find a seat in the middle because the kids in the back are too loud, and they kind of make me want to go postal. They all clamber on behind me, already blasting their own horrendous music on portable Bluetooth speakers.

School felt like it was never going to end. Today was by far the longest day ever. Half way through I could practically feel my fingers burning to pick up my book. I left off on a cliffhanger, and I swear to God if Benny Ramirez dies, I'm chucking it out the bus' window.

I dig around in my backpack, but it isn't in there. How is it _not there_? I didn't even take it out! Anger flares, but I push it down. I'm not going to let myself get angry about this. It's just a book, and it's probably just in one of my classrooms. I'm a forgetful person, I shouldn't be surprised. I tuck my knees up on the seat in front of me and stare out the window. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Just me, and this music. Here, alone, without _annoying fucking hooligans_ around me. Just us.

_**VRRRRRT.** _

I jump so hard my phone falls off my lap and crashes to the floor, yanking my earbuds out in the process. I curse in like seven different languages as I bend down to pick it up. The screen displays  **NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: GAY ALIEN**

What could they possibly want?

**Pidge (Gay Alien): dude you have to come over today!**

**Me: what? Why? This better be good, my phone basically attempted suicide because of you.**

**Pidge: idk what that means but you have to come over, it's Coran's birthday today.**

Coran is Pidge's totally awesome corn snake. When Pidge graduated early, their brother bought him for them as a congratulatory gift.

**Me: sorry, can't today. Little busy.**

**Pidge: busy what, moping? Reading? Watching the Outsiders on rerun? Be here by 4:30 :)**

**Me: are you dissing the Outsiders? The nerve of some people. You're a prick.**

I chuckle as I send it.

**Pidge: it's actually a pretty decent movie, I'll admit. Sodapop is hella hot. Anyway, I'm inviting Shiro and Hunk over as well, and I guess Shiro has a friend he's also bringing.**

**Me: who's the friend?**

**Pidge: I'm not sure, I think his name was Chance? Larry? Why, you hoping he'll be just your type?**

**Me: shove off, I'm not hitting on anyone with the name Larry.**

**Pidge: it's a trucker name haha.**

Over the course of this entire conversation, the bus has already made it to my neighborhood. Time flies when you're talking to someone awesome.

**Me: exactly! Gotta go, this is my stop. I'll be there somewhere around 4.**

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and jump the last two steps while getting off. My house is at the end of Daring Avenue, a street for the middle class/upper class.

You'd be able to spot my house right off the bat. Not because it's huge, but because it's little. The only 1 story house on the whole block. Grass that's a little too long because I have to mow it and I'm lazy, chipping paint on the fence, and a deadspot in the corner from when mom tried to plant a garden. It pretty much sticks out like a sore thumb.

As I walk in, I'm hit with a delicious smell. Cookies? Brownies? Something chocolatey for sure. Mom's in the kitchen flipping though a women's health magazine. She's wearing a flour covered apron with little gingerbread men on it. Her light hair is tied up in a messy bun. When she sees me, she smiles. She looks nothing like me, but that's because she isn't my real mom. I was adopted when I was a few years old. I'm actually Korean.

"Hey there, Keith! How was school?"

I hang my backpack on a hook and plop down on a stool at the island. "Boring. I can't wait for it to be over."

"Oh, don't say that." She waves her hand around dismissively. "You'll miss it when it's over. Besides, you've only got a few weeks left don't you?"

I nod. "Thank God."

Her eyes fill with some sort of emotion and I take that as my cue to leave.

"I've got to go shower, it's Coran's birthday today and Pidge wants me to be there at 4:30." I slip off the stool.

"You're going to college soon. My baby boy."

"Moooooom." I groan and inwardly cringe. She's so stereotypical.

"I know I know, I'm an embarrassing mother. You're just so old now, 17, practically an adult. What am I going to do when you leave? Who's gonna mow the lawn?"

"Have dad do it, he's home right now. Dad! Mom wants you to mow the lawn!"

There's a crash from the next room, then Dad comes peeking his head through the doorway. He's wearing his funky magnifying goggles and they make his eyes about 5 times bigger than normal. He uses them to paint model airplanes.

"What, dear?" He asks Mom.

"Nothing, nothing. Keith's just trying to get out of chores."

"Totally not true." I half protest.

"Way true." She counters.

Dad just looks confused. "Well if I'm not needed, there's a P-40 Warhawk that needs my attention."

He saunters back into his office.

Mom gives me one last nostalgic look and then smiles. "Go shower. You reek."

"How do I reek? I showered this morning!"

"Every teenage boy reeks. Now go make yourself smell good before I spray you with Vanilla Lace perfume!" She's already digging in her purse for it so I hide around the corner.

"Aw, what? That stuff smells like old women!"

" _Excuse me? You did NOT just go there!"_

A laugh rips it's way out of my throat and I bolt down the hall to my room, locking the door behind me. Mom wasn't even chasing me, but the thrill still got my heart pumping.

After my heart rate returns to normal, I scavenge the floor for some clean clothes. I find a v-neck black shirt with the dark mark on it, and decide to just wear the jeans I'm currently in.

Rather than showering, I just apply another layer of deodorant, even though this morning's is still there. I pull my hair back into a messy ponytail.

Is there anything I should bring? What do snakes like?

Then I stop to really think.

What if the mystery boy is very cute and not called Larry? Would he approve of this outfit? Would he think _I_ was cute? Is he gay?

What if he's not and he gets really bothered that I'm coming onto him?

But how else will I find out if he's gay or not?

Why the actual FUCK is it so hard to be a homosexual.

\---

I crack the door open just the slightest and peak out. She's not in the hallway.

I've armed myself with the AXE bodyspray I haven't used since seventh grade. She sprays me, I spray her. Then we both lose but it's still fun.

I press my back against the cool wall and slide down to the bathroom door.  1...2...3!

Whipping around the corner, I spray blindly into the bathroom. The spray dissipates into the air but the intense smell lingers. She wasn't in there.

Hmm...

At the end of the hall I can see around both corners, but she isn't there either! Did she just give up? Or not even grab her perfume in the first place and I'm just making this a bigger deal than it is?

No, I know mom, and after that little comment I made earlier... I've declared war.

But where could she possibly hiding? Kitchen?

The flash comes so fast I barely catch it out of the corner of my eye, and it doesn't even register for a second. I spin around on my heel to see mom, locked and loaded. We stare one another down, playfully serious.

"You shouldn't have made that little statement earlier, Keith."

"You shouldn't have threatened me with that old woman perfume."

I launch a split second after she does, and the fragrant liquids collide. I spray down at her stomach, and she goes for my chest.

"Now I smell old!" I exclaim, mockingly stomping my door on the ground.

"Now _I_ smell hormonal!"

We crack up laughing and I pull her into a hug. "Can I take the car?"

"If you don't crash it."

This is the only time I can really let go. Home is my haven, saving me from the embarrassment of my impulsive and rude behavior I can't quite get under control. My meds make me feel weird and I hate taking them, so I just... don't. My mom doesn't know that obviously.

But I don't need medication to be happy, I can just be with my family.

This is a side of me my friends have never seen. They probably never will.

\---

The roads were pretty empty, so getting to Pidge's apartment was a snap. Pidge lives with their older brother Matt downtown, and luscious trees hide the building.

As I walk into their apartment (they keep the door unlocked unless they're leaving) I'm greeted by an excited Pidge. Coran has coiled his way around their arm, and somehow, a little birthday hat sits atop his head. _How does that even stay on?_

"Hey! We're just hanging out. I'm gonna order us pizza so just find a seat anywhere."

"Why the formalities?" I laugh and walk past them. Hunk is already here, sitting on the floor against the couch. He waves. "We've been best friends since middle school."

"I'm practicing."

"For what?"

"Adulthood. You know, being nice to people you hate."

"You're human?" I joke, then realize what they said, "Hey wait!"

But they're already gone, zipping into the kitchen.

I sit on the couch and slap Hunk's shoulder. "What's up?"

"Ah nothing really. I'm risking a lot being here to be honest, but anything for Coran."

"All for Coran!" I exclaim, only to have Pidge shout it back.

'All for Coran' is an inside joke around here.

After my chuckles die down I start talking. "Ah but seriously, man. College tough?"

He adjusts his headband. "It's fun in almost every aspect _but_ the class part. Astro engineering is great and all, but not when an old man is just puking words on you! We gotta be out there, building stuff-"

I listen to Hunk begin to rant, and almost regret asking him about it. I zone out by staring intently at the far wall. When I snap back to reality, I figure it's been a few minutes, because Hunk is on a completely different topic.

"And how am I even supposed to live with food budgets? I want to have real meals, not just dollar store microwave food! But real food from the store is more expensive than you'd think-"

Pidge plops down next to me as the front door opens and Shiro walks in.

"Alright, just through here." He says, holding the door open.

Pidge leans over. "You smell good."

I scoff, but then a tall, tan boy wearing sunglasses follows Shiro into the room. Wow. He really is attractive. He's smiling a bit, and his teeth are crooked in a cute way but white all the same.

But then I see he's holding an extendable metal rod, and the dots all seem to connect.

He's blind.

The boy lifts his head up in the air and sniffs, then grins. "Someone in here smells like Vanilla Lace."


	2. Sparkling Apple Cider and Crazy English Accents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm which Keith quickly learns that Lance is a huge flirt.

Blind.

The incredibly attractive tall boy with rain-splattered pavement colored skin and a lovely voice is blind.

And he can smell my mom's perfume from all the way over there!

But really, why does he have to be blind? He's super cute, but I seiously doubt he'd ever want to date me. People date purely on looks. Dating for personality is bullshit. And would I honestly be able to date someone who can't see?

"Hey guys," Shiro says, yanking on the boy's sleeve and pulling him inside so he can shut the door. "This is Lance."

Lance. Thank God it's not Larry.

Everyone says hi except for me. I can't seem to get my voice out. Pidge nudges me with their elbow and winks.

"There's a winner for you." They whisper. Lance snorts.

"Winner. You know it." When he laughs, his nose crinkles.

My face grows hot. That was cute. The others laugh along.

How can everyone act so... natural? I'm trying so hard not to say something embarrassing and they can just sit there calmly. This is awkward. Really awkward. What do you even talk about with a blind dude.

_Hey, did you see that episode of The Walking Dead last night? That totally sucked._

_No, sorry. Don't know if you noticed or anything but I'm blind, you inconsiderate prick._

God that would be horrifying.

Lance doesn't hesitate to make himself at home.

Whacking his stick around like a crazy person, he finds his way to the couch and squeezes himself between me and Pidge. All the while ignoring Shiro's protests and shaking off his helping hands.

"Excuse me, thanks." He shimmies his butt down and I'm instantly annoyed. How rude.

But at the same time I can't help but notice he smells really good. And he's got a small freckle right below his left eye. I want to run my thumb over it.

He cranes his head to look at me. Or, not look at me I guess. He's got fashionable sunglasses, but for some reason I can't even bring myself to look at them in the lenses. For the first time in my life, I'm worried to look into someone's eyes.

"So, you're the one who smells good. My mom uses that perfume. You must be really pretty." I think he's flirting, but no one brings up their mom when they flirt.

It dawns on me that he must think I'm a girl.

The entire room cracks up laughing and I can't help but smirk.

"Oh yeah," I chuckle. "So pretty."

"Ah you're a dude. Doesn't matter, you're probably still pretty. You're voice is really nice."

My cheeks flare and Pidge gives me a knowing look. The others in the room nod with satisfaction, or mockingly. They know I'm gay, and every single one of them is looking at me right now. Is he bi?

How do I even react?

"Why would you say my voice is nice? That's ridiculous."

Lance raises an eyebrow and I scold myself.

"Because, I can't see your eyes. I can tell you're gay as fuck but maybe in denial? I'm hitting on you here. Cut me some slack."

His bluntness takes me by surprise and I'm sputtering to form words. To think that just an hour ago I was stressing about making him uncomfortable. Now I don't think that's possible.

My hands fumble nervously at the hem of my shirt and I can't bring myself to look at anyone. I can't afford for them to see me this way. I'm not even really sure why I'm reacting like this. I've never met a guy like Lance before, so upfront and loud. He's physically disabled, but it's like he doesn't care. Who wouldn't care that they can't see? I would care!

He's so strange, and somehow he just makes it hard for me to breathe. He's stealing all my oxygen.

"Ooh, pizza's here." He exclaims excitedly before the knock even comes. Pidge answers and pays the man, then brings it inside. Coran is now in his tank.

"Be Cool To The Pizza Dude." They say under their breath. Hunk chuckles, but Shiro just looks lost.

"Huh?"

Pidge shoves half a slice of Hawaiian in their mouth before saying "It's a 'This I Believe' essay. Something we studied in English class last year."

He nods, but I'm not sure he gets it.

We all just sit around Pidge's couch and watch old movies. Indiana Jones, Young Frankenstein, and Grease. We all sing along to that one.

Lance turns out to be an incredible singer, and I find myself feeling bad that he can't experience the full effect of the movie. It's a classic. He assures us that he watches movies all the time, because he likes listening to them.

We still feel pretty messed up about choosing movies though.

Pidge only ordered one pizza, so we all vowed to eat ONE slice to make it fair. But then Matt came home and took the last three. He sat and watched for a while, then got up and disappeared to his room.

"Make sure you clean up after this, Katie."

"Alright mom, whatever you say."

Then he was gone.

"I thought your name is Pidge." Lance says thoughtfully.

"It is," they say. "Just not legally. I'm non binary."

"So what pronouns do you use?"

Lance is polite for the first time tonight. He's actually being considerate.

Pidge turns around and smiles. "That's really cool of you to ask. I use They/them pronouns. I'm just me."

I smirk. "They're not human, just a warning."

"Sure as shit, my friend," Pidge gives me finger guns. "I'm out of this world."

\---

When the movies are over, it's 1 am. We assume Matt's asleep, but he's kind of a night owl.

Pidge disappears into the kitchen and brings out two large glass bottles of sparkling apple cider. It's just a thing we do where instead of drinking alcohol, we drink cider. The tradition came from a birthday party back in middle school. Long story.

I uncork a bottle and take a swig from it, then pass it to my right. We've only opened one, but by the time we're done here tonight (or this morning), both will be empty. They always are.

Hunk asks Lance if he's afraid of germs before passing it to him, but he just smirks and takes a drink.

We're all in a circle now. This is the part where we get giddy on Apple cider until ungodly hours of the morning, playing truth or dare and just talking about our deepest secrets.

Back in sophomore year, I was dared to kiss Shiro for ten seconds. Using toungue for at least two. I said we don't drink, but I never said anything about smoking pot. We're all high as fucking kites, and Shiro was completely cool with it. So he scoots closer and we kiss.

Boom. Discovered sexuality.

A couple days later we hung out alone, and I think both of us wanted to do it again. So we did. For three hours.

It's a shame though, Shiro turned out to be straight. He's hella fine, too. Muscly build and dark, dark hair. We're into the same bands, so we never argue over radio stations. He's super chill, and he's the one who brings the weed despite his responsible attitude.

But he feels guilty. He feels like he's played me. I honestly don't mind but he doesn't listen.

"TRUTH OR DARE." Shiro announces. Like every great story, we must start off here. Stereotypical truth or dare. We all cheer anyways. Lance has a devious smirk playing on his lips.

"Who's going first?" I ask. They all just stare so I assume it's me. "Fine. Hunk, truth or dare?"

"Uh... truth."

"You always pick truth."

"You always pick crazy dares, I'm not risking it. Remember when you made me streak down the road and I got in trouble with a cop? Because I do."

"Okay, okay fine. Um... have you finally lost your virginity? What are you, like, 20?"

"I'm actually 19, you shithead. Not that you've lost yours yet either so that also makes you a hipocrate. But as a matter of fact, I have. Her name is Shay."

All jaws drop. I clap him on the back. "Nice job, mate! I can't believe it!"

"She probably fell for your cooking skills." Pidge snickers and ducks a pillow thrown at them.

"Alright, alright guys, let's not throw things." Shiro puts on his responsible friend voice. "Hunk, it's your turn to ask. Also congrats."

"Hmm.. Lance, truth or dare."

"Dare, or course."

He takes a second to think. "You have to talk in an extremely stereotypical English accent for five minutes."

"That's a reasonable dare I must say, good sir."

"Perfect."

Lance turns to me. I swallow a lump that suddenly forms.

"Keith, truth or dare. Uh, laddy."

What if I pick dare and I have to kiss him, but I could also pick truth and have to admit he's hot. I could always lie, but something tells me he'd be able to detect it. If I kiss him, it could be a repeat of sophomore year. I dont care about it now, but it was hard for me then. I dont want to make that mistake again.

"Ello, Govenah?"

"Sorry, um, dare?"

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Let me feel your face."

I tense. "... feel my face?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What kind of question is 'why?' I can't see it, so I want to know it. Let me feel your face."

My chest feels like I've cracked a glowstick in it, and I hope the others can't see it glow. I hesitantly move closer to Lance's outstretched hands.

Nobody is reacting. As far as I can tell from their expressions, this is a normal thing.

I rest my chin in his palm, and he starts to examine my features. His fingertips are light and brushing, barely whispering on my skin. I close my eyes because I have nowhere to look except for his lips, and his thumbs move over and under them like he's wiping away tears. He thinks out loud, accidentally losing the accent. No one corrects him.

"Hmm... high cheekbones, long eyelashes, surprisingly nice eyebrows,"

His fingers move gingerly to my hair, running through it and pulling it out of its little ponytail. It falls in thick waves around my head. He almost massages my scalp in a weird but calming way, and it feels so good. My heart beat accelerates faster than I've ever felt it.

"Amazing hair, holy Jesus. Also, you like my fingers on your face like this, you have goosebumps on your neck, just below your ears."

My eyes fly open and I draw away. You can't just casually make a comment like that.

"Okay. That's enough," I take a few long gulps from the bottle and stand, clearly flustered. "I've gotta go guys, I'll see you later."

"Leaving so soon?" Shiro grins knowingly. I turn at at angle so no one can see my growing hard-on. Why do dicks have to be this way?

My skin tingles from where lance explored, and I so desperately want him to do it again. These thoughts just fuel my bodily reaction. How does one get hard from that alone? I must be really deprived.

"Yep, bye." And with that, I'm out the door. I zip out of the apartment building faster than Barry Allen and I'm on the freeway within minutes. Mom won't appreciate me coming home so late, she assumed I was staying over.

I park the car in the driveway but can't bring myself to get out. I thought that some good music on the radio would calm me down and maybe even help me forget, but I'm so hard now it hurts. So I force myself up and out of the little Honda.

I unlock the door with the spare key under the mat and seriously hope dad hasn't stayed up to paint planes. The last thing I need is him seeing me like this. Fortunately, all the lights are off.

When I get to my room, I sit on the bed and try to breathe. Try to calm myself down.

Lance keeps showing up, though, and I groan. Why. I've known him, what, six hours? And I'm already about to jerk off to him? That's an all time low for me.

Trails still burn on my neck and jaw, up by my eyes and the bridge of my nose. His hands smelled of lotion, but the fingertips were slightly calloused, leaving a light scratch to them.

When he talked, it felt as though he were inches away. I could just lean in and kiss his lips. Those soft, but chewed on lips.

"Keith, truth or dare." "Keith" "Keith."

Even the way he said my name was hot.

I reach over to my dresser and grab a tissue from the box.

"Lance."

 


	3. Green Apple Shampoo and Hair Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is hecka short :// hope you enjoy it anyway!

When I open my eyes, I'm staring at my ceiling. Little star shaped stickers are there to greet me. 

Hello,  they say, We know what you did.

Not a comforting thought. 

I sit up and actually feel okay for once. Most mornings I wake up and just lay there for an hour before willing myself to the kitchen. What is it about today that's good? How is this day any different? My pills still sit ignored in their bottle and my brain is just as messed up as before. 

At least it's Saturday. Saturday is a nice day where I can just ignore things for a while. I can watch Netflix and hold off homework for another twenty four hours and not feel completely guilty about it. Actually, I don't have any homework... School ends in two weeks! Then I'll never have homework again.

That revelation sends a smile to my face and brings me to my feet. I decide to take a shower first thing to wake me up a bit, then eat.

I cross the hall to the bathroom and start the water, letting it heat up to a scorching temperature before stepping inside. The water pounds at my back and helps with the knots of the night. As I'm scrubbing up, I think about never doing homework again. I wonder what mom is going to think when I tell her? That I'm not going to college, I mean. It's always been her dream to send me to college and for me to have a bright future, but in all honesty, I just want to play guitar for different bands and live out of a van, crossing the country and leaving my mark. I'll be known as the world's greatest travelling musician. Only in one spot for so long before moving to another. 

I would be famous, but not. It's a simple life. 

Sure I have dreams, but this feels like my path. 

First I have to learn guitar.

When my hair smells strongly of apples and I feel refreshed, I get out. I decide to wear sweats today and just be all around lazy. I think of my acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of my room and bring it out to the living room. It's sleek black, Ibanez. I named her Vienna.

Dad has a card table set up in the middle of the room, cluttered with paint and that P40- Warhawk he was working on. He looks up when I enter.

"You didn't stay over?"

"No, I wasn't feeling well."

I pray that he doesn't see my face flush at the thought of Lance running his fingers through my hair, but then I remembered that praying does me no good when I'm probably going to hell for having those thoughts exactly.

"Are you feeling better now?"

I slip into the kitchen and grab a bowl, then cereal and milk. "Much."

Three bites of Captain Crunch later I hear him talk again. "You still have to mow the yard."

I chuckle and move back to the couch, making sure not to knock over my propped up guitar. "Can I do it tomorrow?"

He sighs with heavy exaggeration. "I suppose."

"Sweet. I'm gonna learn a new song today I think."

"Uh oh. Out here? Your mom is cleaning my office."

I glare at him and he laughs, accidentally knocking over a little bucket of paint. His scream is more feminine than mom's as it spreads to the edge. "WE CAN'T GET IT ON THE CARPET."

Without a single moment of hesitation, I place my half eaten bowl of cereal under it. 

"Damn it, I was going to eat that..."

Dad scurries back with the whole roll of paper towels. "I'm so sorry about your cereal, Keith. I am in debt to you for your sacrifice."

nerd.

When everything is cleaned up, I dump out my cereal, not really hungry anymore.

"You can mow the lawn for me, if you really feel bad about it."

"It wasn't that big of a sacrifice there, Tex."

After that, it's quiet. Well, save for my mediocre guitar playing skills. Dad stays hyperfocused on his plane, only twitching a bit when one of my strings makes an odd twang.

I mumble an apology and then continue trying to play Remembering Sunday. Yes yes, emo me, I've heard it all before (fucking Pidge). 

Mom's laptop is splayed open on the carpet in front of me and I rack my brain for the A7 chord. I will not Google it again, no sir. It's there I know it. 

My irritation really starts to flair when it doesn't sound like the song. It sounds too low. I groan and set my guitar aside, flopping my head back on the couch cushion.

"I'm doing the chords right but it sounds wrong. I don't get it."

Dad glances over. 

"Does it need a capo?" 

"... I didn't check." 

He laughs under his breath as I sit up, scrolling to the top of the page. Capo on 2nd fret.

"Shit, you're right."

"What was that?"

"Crap, you're right."

"Mhmm, okay boy."

Ding dong.

I raise an eyebrow. Maybe it's Pidge? Did I forget something at their apartment?

Except that it wasn't Pidge.

When I open the door I almost shut it again. There on my front porch is attractive-as-fuck Lance.

"Hey," he says cooly. "Is this Keith's place?"

It takes a few seconds to find my voice. "Um, no, sorry. But there is a Keith down the street I think."

Please go away please go away

"Okay nice try, sweet thing. I just came to return something."

I deflate. "How did you even get here?"

"Shiro gave me a ride." 

There's a shitty black car with a duct taped window parked at the end of my driveway that can only be Shiro's. He waves from the driver's seat and I flip him the bird, knowing fully well Lance can't see it.

"I didn't realize I forgot anything."

Lance just smirks, pulling up the corner of his mouth and displaying those kind of crooked teeth.

"Here." He holds out his hand, and dangling from his fingers is my hairband.

"Wha- seriously? I have like hundreds of those."

"I just felt like I should bring it back. I obviously can't use it." He runs his fingers through his short-trimmed hair. 

"Okay," I say in defeat. "Thanks."

I grab it, but as I pull away Lance takes hold of my hand. My body tenses and I can't will myself to pull it back. He strokes his slender fingers down my palm, all the way to the tips of my fingers. His face suddenly lights up.

"You play?"

"Excuse me?" My brain manages to unscramble itself and I pull my hand to my chest. My hairband falls to the sidewalk.

Apparently he heard the tink of the metal connector on the concrete because he bends over and sweeps his hand around. When he finds it, he brings it back up. 

"Guitar. You play?"

"W-well not really no."

"But your fingertips are dented and I can smell the strings."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Smell the stings?" 

"Yeah. You know, when you play it kinda smells like when you hold onto loose change for too long. Metallic."

"Um, I'm not any good at it. I'm a beginner."

"I can teach you!" He smiles and claps his hands together.

I'm even more confused than before. "What? You can't play, you're blind."

"Wow, way to be sensitive. You'd be surprised at what I can do as a blind man." He wiggles his eyebrows over his sunglasses. "How about we meet up a few times a week? School for you should be out soon so we have plenty of time-"

"Hey hey wait, I never agreed to anything."

"Well you should, I'm kind of a guitar master. Tomorrow at five work? Good. See you then!"

Lance grabs his stick from its resting place against the door frame and turns on his heel.

"Wait, where?"

Did that seriously just come out of my mouth?

"Hmm, how about downtown? We can grab coffee first and then go to the park."

He climbs into Shiro's car and they pull out. I watch as they disappear down the street. When I shut the door, dad doesn't even look up. 

"Who was that?"

"An idiot."


	4. Before I Die

Sunday 4:59 PM

As I sit in Altean Bean Blends sipping on a piping hot caramel latte, my eyes scan the street on the other side of the window. My guitar sits against the wall behind my chair in its hard case.

I should have just turned him down. I can't play for shit and he's going to laugh at me.

My body is racked with shivers and my fingers tremble from nerves. Thank God he won't be able to see me like this.

I glance at the door, then back out the window, then down at my wrist watch.

5:02

He's _late._

Why would he be late to his own lesson? Though... it's only two minutes. What's that rule kids always bring up when the teacher is late to class... "if the teacher is 15 minutes late the students can leave and won't be considered absent".. right? I start to stand.

So if he's late enough I'll just call it off-

"Heya, Lance!" The barista behind the counter says cheerily and I slump back in my chair. She's a perky young woman with very light white hair. It's long, down to her lower back and seemingly free of knots. How. My hair is a rat's nest and it's barely past my shoulders.

Lance has a guitar case in one hand and his stick in the other. He's wearing a Transformers t shirt and a plaid flannel. He greets her and asks if "a guy with a guitar is here, possibly Asian". I look away quickly as the barista tells him I'm near the window.

The shop is spacey enough and everyone gets the hint, so people naturally part for him.

"Keith?" He says when he reaches the back. I realize he doesn't know what table I'm at.

"Right here," I wave my hand even though I know he can't see it.

He flashes a smile and pulls out the chair across from me, then sits. His guitar case is tattered and worn, duct taped in a few spots and splotched with band stickers.

"Hey man, you excited for this?"

The pretty barista comes and brings him a drink, though I don't remember him ordering anything.

I focus on anything but the lenses of his glasses, and notice he's wearing a different pair today. "Er, yeah. I am. I-I'm not very good so please don't-"

"I'm not going to laugh at you. I promise. We all start at the beginning."

I find myself wondering how he knows what chords go with what songs. He can't look at sheet music, and online guitar tabs? He can't see those either.

"Thanks. I only know one song." Barely. After Lance left I quit playing for the day. I was exhausted.

"Oh? What song?"

"Remembering Sunday-"

"By All Time Low, that's a good one!"

My cheeks flush slightly and I can't help but smile a little. What a dork.

"Yeah, I like their music."

He runs a hand through his mess of hair. "Favorite song?"

"Heh... probably Backseat Serenade.."

Lance grins and wiggles his shoulders, saying "Mm, mm, mmm, toasty!"

A laugh erupts from my throat before I can stop it and that makes him smile even more.

"You have a very nice laugh. Loved the snort in the beginning."

"I don't snort!"

"You just did! You can't hide that from me, Keith, you are a snorter."

For the first time since I met him, I feel at ease. Which is unusual to feel outside of my house in general. But Lance is surprisingly funny, and not just a snotty boy who forces his butt between me and Pidge. It dawns on me that him teaching me guitar is surprisingly generous and I haven't even thanked him yet.

It falls quiet, and Lance takes a long gulp from his drink. I open my mouth to thank him, but then

"Thank you for letting me teach you guitar."

He thanks me?

"Um... sure. I was just about to thank you, actually."

"What for?"

I raise an eyebrow. "For teaching me guitar...?"

"Oh. Yeah. No problem, I love teaching guitar."

After a pause he adds:

"Sorry, give this coffee a little time to kick in and we'll be golden. I don't take meds so caffeine is my only option."

It dawns on me he's probably ADHD, and that would explain his restless behavior. I suddenly feel bad for thinking he was a spaz. I wouldn't want people judging me based on my behavior either, especially if they don't know the full story. 

"That," he continues. "and music."

"Oh? How so?"

"When I listen to music, I don't fidget. I can sit for hours and just listen. Same for when I play guitar. It's like meditating or something. I dunno."

It makes complete sense. I understand that. Music keeps me calm when I'm upset; I just put on headphones and blast it as loud as the speakers can handle. 

"It does the same for me," I respond. 

His gears completely switch. "Did you mow the lawn?"

"....excuse me?"

"I can smell the grass and exhaust."

"Apparently you can smell _everything_!" 

Lance lets out a hearty laugh. "You learn to use your other senses when one fails on you."

_Fails...?_

I decide not to ask any questions I'll regret. 

\--

The breeze whips my hair into my face, and I suddenly feel jealous of Lance's short trim. Though, I don't know what I'd do if my hair was short, I've had it this length nearly my entire life. 

I switch my guitar from hand to hand every once in a while, its weight making my shoulders ache and the handle hurts my fingers. The heat that so unfortunately comes as a side effect with summer presses down on me like a sticky blanket.

"Does the sound of my cane annoy you at all?" Lance questions as we cross a street. His cane makes light _tap tap tap_ 's as he moves along.

"No, not at all. Why?"

"You don't have to lie, it is a little tedious and stuff. I mean,   _I'm_ used to it, but I don't know about other peo-"

"Dude, chill, it's fine. Seriously, I didn't even notice until you brought it up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, definitely."

By the time we reach "the park nearby" (which actually wasn't all that close and now I feel hot and sweaty and achy), the breeze stops. Which is both good and bad. Good: because my hair won't act like it has a life of its own. Bad: because now it's just plain humid heat. Fantastic.

"Oh my God, Kieth, there's this totally awesome bench we have to go sit on!" Lance exclaims suddenly, "My brother told me all about it and I've sat there ever since."

I chuckle at the excited boy,  reaching up to pull my hair back and fasten it with the hair tie. Something about yesterday compelled me to keep the band on my wrist, and putting it back in my hair sends a fresh wave of memories to my brain. 

I can't help but stare down at Lance's slender fingers.

"Lead the way," I murmur. 

The bench sits on the far East side of the park. It's low, but is long enough for both of us to lay down on. The paint is chipping off over the many seasons. As far as I can see, there are trees. So many trees. For some reason (and this is weird for such a beautiful location) there are no people. 

But the thing that really intrigues me is the wall standing behind it. It's a cement slab that stands maybe ten feet tall and fifteen feet wide. It's painted with what looks like chalkboard paint, and it's _covered_ with writing. At the top it reads 

"Before I Die..."

I glance over my shoulder at Lance, who is opening his guitar case up on the bench. He looks up in my direction and I avert my eyes from his sunglasses. Even staring at his shirt I can see his smile. 

"Yeah, pretty cool, huh?" 

The wall is littered with profanities and dirty jokes, but every once in a while I see something actually worth while reading. Something nice. 

I think Lance has such a nice perception of this place, where there aren't "fucks" and "dicks" all over a wall where there's actually supposed to be something quite beautiful. He probably hopes to see something completely different, something his brother told him. I wonder what his brother said. 

Yes, it's cool, but people always have to ruin things. 

But Lance's face glows. He's so content being here and playing his guitar. So maybe he doesn't need to see it, because it's wholly unique to him.

"It's amazing. This is a really cool thing to have... I can't believe I've never heard of it."

"Levi told me they're all over the country, some kind of project." He says while tuning his guitar. He's tuning by ear. _How is that even possible?_  

"Is Levi your brother?"

Lance smiles again. It seems like he's always smiling. It makes my stomach flutter and I wish it would just stop. "Yep, he used to take me to this park all the time. He's only a couple years older than me-- twenty. He stumbled across this once a couple years ago and told me all about it."

"He sounds like a great brother." I say. I try not to sound upset but my voice comes out shaky. I've always wanted a brother.  

He seems to notice. "Do you have any siblings?" 

I hesitate, but then decide to sit down next to him on the bench. His lips twitch upward when he feels my presence. "I'm an only child. My parents adopted me from South Korea."

"I knew you were Asian!"

A bubbly laugh I'm not used to comes out of my mouth. I've only ever laughed like that with mom and dad. 

"Well you did feel up my face,"

"Oh and what a lovely face it is." He wiggles his eyebrows.

My cheeks flare up and I look away, even though he can't see me.

"Anyway, I know what it's like to get pity. And you most likely don't want it." He then raises his voice about a trillion octaves. " _'Oh sweety, I'm so sorry you're adopted. That must be sooooooooo loooonelyyyyyy!!!!!111!!111'_ "

I bust into laughter again. He gets it! He really gets it! After a solid minute of laughter my abdomen aches. I'm not used to this much laughing, and I think back to the episode of Spongebob where Squidward's laugh box breaks.

When we both finally calm down, I say "The fact that your voice can even go that high scares me a little."

He shrugs, still giggling. "I'm kind of a god, so,"

I hate to admit it, but I kind of agree.

We sit in silence. I almost forget we're here to play guitar when Lance starts picking at the strings. It doesn't sound like a song I know, and then he starts singing.

_"One went out at a bus stop in Edinburgh_

_One went out in an English park_

_One went out in a night club, when I was fifteen_

_Little lights in my heart._

_One went out when I lied to my mother_

_Said the cigarettes she found were not mine_

_One went out within me, now I smoke like a chimney_

_It's getting dark in this heart of mine_

_It's getting dark in this heart of mine"_

Once I shove down the initial embarrassment and fear of singing in public, I realize it's a song by Passenger. I don't know the title though, this genre really isn't my forte. But with Lance singing it? God, it will be.

_"We're born with millions of little lights shining in the dark_

_And they show us the way_

_One lights up, every time you feel love in your heart_

_One dies when it moves away"_

I close my eyes and relax, listening to the soft plucking and Lance's smooth, syrupy voice. He even sings it with the accent. Before I know it, he finishes up and I open my eyes. I expected a crowd to gather round and listen, but we're still alone. The breeze has come back though.

I turn my head to look at Lance, and for a split second I see his closed eyes through the side of his sunglasses. His eyelashes are long and thick, and the light from the setting sun makes his freckles pop. My heart pounds and I turn away again. 

I can't look in his eyes.

There's a fear here that I don't understand. That soul mate shit isn't real, so why am I scared that it is? Lance can't possibly be my soul mate, one because they don't exist and two because-- because...

It dawns on me that there isn't a reason he _couldn't_ be my soul mate.

Both of us jump when my phone rings. It's Pidge.

"Sorry, is it okay if I take this?" 

"Why would you take it?" He smiles "It's yours." 

I roll my eyes but chuckle anyway. I get up and walk about ten feet away, hopefully out of his extreme hearing range.

"What." I say when I answer.

"Dude, you're on a date right now aren't you? Shiro told me everything."

"That not what it is! And even if it was, why would you be calling in the middle of it?"

Suddenly the line gets fuzzy and I know I've been put on speaker. Pidge and Shiro mumble to each other for a couple second and then: "ASK HIM OUT. ASK HIM OUT. ASK HIM OUT."

"Jesus fuck you're loud!" I groan and rub my eyes with my hand.

"And you, my friend, are smitten." 

Lance chuckles from the bench. I guess I didn't go far enough.

"Look, I'll call you later or something"

Pidge laughs. "You totally won't-"

I click the end button and shove my phone back in my pocket. I sit down farther away from Lance this time. 

"Ask him out, eh?"

I groan again. When I don't respond, he scoots over a tad on the bench, closer to me. My heart beats faster and faster every second and I can feel it in my ears. He doesn't get too close though, thank God.

He clears his throat a little. "Do you... do you want to?"

He's nervous too. "Ask you oUT?" I cringe as my voice cracks at the end. 

"Er, yeah I guess. I mean I want to do this again. Even though we didn't even play much guitar, but we do still have an hour of sunlight left so we can totally stay here if you want."

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I really like Lance, that much is obvious, but I don't know if I can be with him. I can't even look him in the eyes. In the _sunglasses_. And what if we start dating and he can't handle me? I'm an emotional, moody, rude mess. I don't want to get attached only for him to leave.

"Is it... is it okay if we just stay friends for now? I'm a little conflicted in my head about some things and I need to sort them out."

"Oh... are you straight?"

"What? No no, it's not that. I'm not straight. Um, it's just some other stuff. Trust me, I like you a lot. I would love to do this again if you're up for it."

Lance smiles, but this time it's strained. "Sure, yeah. We already agreed to a couple times every week so. I'll just pretend this was a date."

"Ha, yeah. I forgot about that."

"Yeah."

I want to kill myself. Everything got extremely awkward extremely fast and I don't know what to do.

_Brain: Just do it. Keith, don't be a pussy. Just do it. You know you like him, so just ask him out. You can deal with all the repercussions later._

_Me: You make a compelling argument, Brain. But I'm scared._

_Brain: I know you are, but you have to be brave. This boy could make you very happy._

_Me: Being happy is for chumps._

_Brain: You know you don't believe that. That's why you like to stay home with your family. Because they make you happy._

_Me: Why can't I look in his eyes? I want to know what they look like._

_Brain: We both know-- well, mostly me because it's inside me-- that you believe in soul mates. Even if it's just a little. You're just denying it because you salty._

_Me: Why are you speaking like a meme._

_Brain: Because you are a meme. Now do it._

_Me: Okay, I can do this._

"You know what? Nevermind. Scratch all that."

_me: WAIT RETREAT RETREAT. i CHANGE MY MIND._

"Let's go on an actual date, Lance," 

me: _WHEE WHOO WHEE WHOO WHEE WHOO_

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

_me: wHY WHY I'M SO DUMB WHAT EVEN_

_Brain: Relax, you're going to be okay. Nothing bad will happen by asking him out. You're fine. Deep breaths._

"I'm just too irresistible, aren't I?" Lance smirks, but it's more of a grin than anything.

I guess this is really happening. 

\-------------------------------------------

 

 

Also, here's a thing I made for Lance's family. Sorry for the scribble. I wish there was like a universal fandom thing like "This is Lance's family. It's just a headcanon but we all agree that these are their names."

Song: All These Little Lights by Passenger


End file.
